


A Little Help

by SingManyFaces



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Roommates, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingManyFaces/pseuds/SingManyFaces
Summary: Five times Ahsoka thought Ben and Anakin were a couple, and one time she was right.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 26
Kudos: 630





	A Little Help

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t imagine Anakin not using a nickname for Ahsoka but, for this fic, nothing’s really happened between them that would have earned her ‘Snips,’ so instead he uses ‘Soka.’
> 
> This is a fill for the prompt Everybody Knows/Mistaken for a Couple.

The moving-in part of Ahsoka’s first day in the apartment had gone surprisingly quick, at least to her new roommates; she hadn’t exaggerated when she’d told them she didn’t have much to move and then she’d brought some friends, twin brothers, to help on top of things. The brothers—Rex and Cody, they’d introduced themselves—had left shortly after finishing, claiming other commitments. Now, Ahsoka sat with Padmé at the dining table while Ben and Anakin hastily mixed cookie batter at the kitchen counter. 

“For the record,” Ben informed her with a side glance at Anakin, “we’d originally intended to have these baked _before_ you moved in.”

“But it’s better this way!” Anakin argued, winking over his shoulder, “She got to pick the flavor instead of us guessing.”

Ahsoka smiled while Padmé tittered and Ben hummed, unimpressed. “You’re just trying to endear yourself to her so she’ll forgive your habitual tardiness,” he said as he poured chocolate chips into the batter. 

Padmé smiled fondly at the two in the kitchen. “You’ll get used to the bickering before long,” she assured Ahsoka, “Otherwise, it’s pretty quiet around here.”

Trying to squelch her laughter at Ben’s squawk as Anakin clapped a flour-handprint onto his hip, Ahsoka lowered her voice to ask, “How long have they been together?” She’d been wondering since she’d first interviewed for the room; she had to imagine it was a long time, and she wanted the details.

But Padmé just blinked at her before tittering again, realizing the younger woman’s mistake. “Oh,” leaning in conspiratorially, “they’re not together. Not like that.”

Rearing back in surprise, Ahsoka opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Anakin’s yelp as Ben swatted his hand from the bowl with a spoon. “Stop eating the batter!”

“I can’t help it,” he argued, “it’s missing something!”

Ben stared at him flatly. “They’re just cookies, Anakin, don’t overthink it.” The only response he received was Anakin’s hand in face, the tip of his middle finger covered in dough. Barely batting an eye Ben closed his mouth around it, eyebrows knitting as the taste settled on his tongue. “Oh, you’re right. A healthy sprinkle of cinnamon should do it.”

Ahsoka turned back to Padmé as Anakin retrieved the proper jar. “You’re _kidding_.”

Her smile said that this was not the first time she’d heard the sentiment. “They get that a lot.”

~*~

After only two weeks in the apartment Ahsoka felt a comfortable closeness with her new roommates that she hadn’t expected—at least not so fast. She told herself that was why, on a pleasantly lazy Sunday, she found herself sitting cross-legged on Anakin’s back while he did push-ups in the common room. “Would you still be doing this if we weren’t planning on having a party soon?” She scritched ticklishly at the back of his neck, laughing even as it made her position less stable. “Trying to pretty-up for the singles?”

He snorted, staying low a little longer to steady himself again. “Not likely, ‘Soka.”

“It is part of his usual routine,” Padmé piped up, curled up in a corner of their oversized loveseat as she made notes for the aforementioned party, “He just usually keeps to his own room for it.”

“Well, everyone else was out here today,” he noted warmly as he nodded between her and Ben, reading quietly on the couch, “You lured me out.”

For another few moments that was the end of the subject, relative quiet settling over the quartette. Then, with a resigned sigh, Anakin pressed himself to the floor and didn’t rise again. “Okay, ‘Soka, I think you might as well hop off.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, leaning over to see his face better, “I don’t mind.”

But he waved her off. “Yeah—you’re just too light to really give me what I’m looking for.”

She shrugged, carefully unfolding herself. “Not exactly a problem I mind having.” Rising, one foot planted on either side of Anakin, she asked the others, “Anyone else want a bottle of water?”

“Yes, please!” Padmé said, looking briefly up from the grocery list she was assembling as Ben shook his head, and Anakin nodded his.

Once Ahsoka had gotten clear Anakin stretched out his back as a cat might have before rolling up onto his knees and slanting a look toward the couch. “Hey, Ben...”

Ben didn’t say anything, just raised a brow over his book. 

“You think you might—”

“No.”

“Come on!” He flopped over onto his hip, leaning an elbow on one of the cushions under Ben. “I need the resistance, and ‘Soka’s too small.” The woman in question dropped a bottle of water into his hand as she walked through the room again, taking up the other corner of the loveseat before passing a bottle to Padmé.

“And what, exactly,” he replied archly, laying his book open against his chest, “are you saying about me?”

Rolling his eyes, “That you’re taller and broader than she is.” To illustrate the point he drew a finger down the other man’s shoulder, then tapped the spine of his book with it. “You wouldn’t even have to stop reading.”

Ben stared at him for a moment as though considering it, then turned back to his book. “No, I think I’ll leave you to your silliness, thank you.”

Groaning melodramatically, “Would you just get on top of me?”

“Because _that’s_ something straight people say to each other,” Ahsoka muttered into her bottle.

“I never said they were straight~” Padmé sing-songed just as quietly.

On the floor, Anakin had succeeded in rousing Ben from the couch by yanking his book away and holding it hostage. “Fine, _fine_ ,” Ben gave in, snatching the book back as Anakin got into position, “But don’t blame me if you hurt yourself.”

~*~

On the third Saturday of the month, upon returning home from lunch with Rex and Cody, it wasn’t the sight of her roommates gathered in the common room that surprised Ahsoka. No, that happened all the time. It was all of the nail polish spread out on one end of the coffee table and Anakin seated on the other, applying it to Ben.

“You’re just in time!” Padmé called from the couch, slowly waving her hands back and forth to help her nails dry, “It’s manicure day!”

As though that explained everything.

“Okay,” Ahsoka laughed softly, hanging her coat up behind the door before joining them, “I’m going to need more details than that.”

“Do you remember how long ago it was?” Anakin asked Padmé over his shoulder, dipping his brush back into the bottle of cuticle oil; Padmé shook her head. “Anyway, I used to help my mom with it sometimes when I was younger, her nails I mean, so I did it as a favor for Padmé once when she’d strained her wrist.”

“And I decided then that I was never paying for another manicure.” Padmé winked as Ahsoka sat next to her, earning a bark of laughter from Anakin.

“I don’t know how they roped me in,” Ben added, sighing as Anakin buffed the excess oil from his fingers, “but here we are, third Saturday of every month.”

A snort. “Even though Ben’s _boring_ , and only ever does clear,” Anakin held up a bottle of clear topcoat before twisting it open and handing it off to Ben, “when Padmé has so many fun colors.” He raised his left hand to demonstrate, wiggling his fingers so the light would catch the metallic gold polish he’d put on himself. 

Ben rolled his eyes at the familiar dig. “And what would my students say, if I came in with something like that?”

“They’d say it was hot,” Anakin supplied, his tone saying it should have been obvious.

“It’s just something nice to do together,” Padmé smiled at Ahsoka, motioning to the many bottles spread out on the table.

Well, she supposed, it wasn’t the strangest thing roommates could do to bond. “Can you do stripes?”

Anakin grinned as he took the brush from the bottle Ben held, taking Ben’s other hand into his own to start applying the clear coat. Padmé answered instead, “Oh, he’s great at details.” She showed off the little bursts of color on her nails that looked like fireworks, earning an impressed sound from Ahsoka.

Another shrug, “I painted models as a kid.” Then he clucked his tongue disapprovingly at Ben. “You know, your hands are a mess. Again.”

“Yes, well,” Ben replied, long-suffering, “that’s why you used the cuticle oil, isn’t it?”

He ran his thumb briefly over the back of Ben’s hand. “You shouldn’t let them get so dry, your skin’ll crack.”

Ahsoka didn’t realize she’d been staring until Padmé nudged her with an elbow, amusement written clearly on her face. Quietly, “Stop staring and pick your colors.”

For a moment her attention was caught again by their soft smiles as they continued their ribbing, the careful way that Anakin held Ben’s hand. “I can’t help it...” But just the same, she leaned forward to start sifting through the different bottles of color. 

~*~

Four days before the party they were throwing—a combination holiday and welcome event—Ahsoka heard Anakin and Ben before they even got back into the apartment. “... _so_ uncivilized,” Anakin taunted gently as he came through the door, arms full of the supplies they’d gone to the grocery store for, and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Ha ha,” Ben deadpanned, adjusting the bag of frozen peas that he held to his knuckles.

“What happened to you?” Ahsoka hadn’t meant to shout, but she had never seen Ben look so roughed-up. She may not have been living there long but she had the distinct impression that it was something that didn’t happen often. 

Ben sighed wearily, trying to brush it off. “It was nothing—“

“Ben got into a _fight!_ ”

Another sigh. “You don’t have to sound so gleeful about it,” Ben called back.

Relief, he discovered, would not be coming from Ahsoka; she looked as excited by the idea as Anakin had sounded. “Oh, I am definitely going to need more details on this!”

“What’s all the shouting about?” Padmé asked, curls askew from reading in bed, as she poked her head into the common room. Then her eyes settled on Ben. “What happened to you?”

He only groaned at the attention and made a path for the dining table, taking up his customary chair there. “Apparently,” Ahsoka strode over to her and grabbed her by the hand, “there was a fight.”

Padmé sputtered as she was pulled into the kitchen, Ahsoka only relinquishing her hold so they could help unload the groceries; she gave Anakin a nudge with her elbow to get him talking.

He swatted at her, belatedly trying to protect the ticklish spot, before launching into the tale. “Alright, so there were these two, kind of, drunk guys we’d seen around the store—“

“Drunks at the grocery store?” Ahsoka raised a brow.

Anakin shrugged. “You do your shopping at night, sometimes you see drunk people.” He opened a high cabinet, reaching up to home the proper groceries there. “Mostly we’d tried to ignore them, but then they ended up behind us at the self-check-out. We got the last open register, so they had to wait.”

Padmé took the cans that Ahsoka passed to her, stowing them in a floor-level cabinet. “I’ll bet they weren’t too happy about that.”

“No, they were not,” Ben chimed in from the table. 

“They’d been making some cracks about some of the more feminine items in our cart—heads up,” he tossed the box in question to Padmé, which she caught with a grateful nod, “And then one of them noticed my nails, and went ‘What kind of a—‘“

“Do _not_ say the word,” Ben cut in, “You know I hate that word.”

Grinning, Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the counter. “What kind of a— _that word Ben doesn’t like—_ wears nail polish?” he paraphrased, drawing wide-eyed surprise from his audience. “So Ben just went, ‘The kind that’s going to kick your ass!’” he said, in a half-decent imitation of Ben’s voice, “and swung!”

“Go Ben!” Ahsoka cheered.

“Are we going to need to find a new market?” Padmé asked, though she sounded amused.

“Are you kidding?” Anakin’s smile only widened and he nodded at Ben’s hand. “They gave us the peas for free. Guess it wasn’t the first time those guys came in and caused trouble.”

A groan rose up from the dining table, Ben’s face buried in his uninjured hand; Anakin ambled over to stand next to his chair. “It _was_ an uncivilized thing to do,” Ben mumbled, a little disappointed in himself. He raised his head to look up at Anakin, a small splotch of purple beginning to bloom at his cheek where one of the drunks had gotten in a glancing blow. “But he shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

Anakin’s expression softened, and he dropped a hand onto Ben’s shoulder. “Hey, I know I teased you earlier,” his hand slid down until his arm was draped over Ben’s chest in a half hug, “but it seemed more chivalrous than uncivilized to me.” He gave Ben a little squeeze, leaned a little closer...and then seemed to think better of whatever else he might have been about to do. “And I appreciated it.”

Padmé shook Ahsoka from her thoughts with a little nudge, something that only seemed to be happening more and more often. “I can hear you thinking ‘Now kiss!’ from here,” she murmured, swallowing down a laugh.

Ahsoka twitched a slightly embarrassed smile before returning to the last bag of groceries, thoughts already starting to whirl again. Padmé, she thought, might have just given her an idea...

~*~

“Again? This is the fifth time, Anakin.” Nevertheless, Ben still pecked Anakin’s cheek.

The younger man laughed, spirits high with the crowd of the party. “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m taller than you,” he pointed out, flicking at the mistletoe Ahsoka had clipped into his hair before their first guests had arrived. “Think of it as a toll for good conversation.”

Playfully grousing, “I don’t know that it’s that good...”

Another bark of laughter, “Well, if the conversation isn’t doing it for you, we could give dancing a try.” He gestured vaguely to the Bluetooth speaker that was supplying the music for the gathering at a comfortable volume.

Ahsoka watched things unfold from the kitchen, where she was plating a fresh batch of pigs in a blanket. As she saw it, her loose plan was coming together—she may not have had the fine details figured out, but she felt certain that Ben and Anakin would be an actual couple by the end of the night. She was drawn from her plotting by Padmé’s fond voice in her ear, “You’re a menace.”

“What?” Ahsoka feigned innocence as Padmé popped one of the hors d'oeuvres into her mouth. “It’s not a holiday party without some mistletoe!” Allowing herself a giggle, “And making it a moving target is way more fun than just hanging it in a doorway.”

Padmé hummed, unimpressed, but didn’t have time to say anything else before the moving target himself walked into the kitchen. “Hello, ladies~” They each put a hand on his shoulder so he would lean down before planting a kiss to both of his cheeks. “You know, I could get used to this,” he chuckled, “Maybe I’ll keep wearing the mistletoe year-round.”

“I don’t think it works that way, Ani,” Padmé mused, slipping an arm around his waist and tucking herself into his side, “But points for effort.”

“Can’t blame me for trying,” Anakin shrugged, looking out to the mingling crowd. “Everyone seems to be getting along well, right?” Padmé nodded her agreement. Then, turning his attention to Ahsoka, “Though I’m not sure whether your friend Asajj wants to hit me, or hit _on_ me.”

“That sounds about right,” Ahsoka laughed, “You’re good as long as no fists actually start flying.”

He raised a brow, trying to reign in his grin, “Well, that’s encouraging.”

“But speaking of my friends~” Ahsoka picked up the plate of pigs in a blanket and handed it off to Anakin. “Would you mind running these past Rex while I put some more things together?” She pointed to the oven timer, close to going off. “He completely missed the first plate, and they’re his favorite.”

“Sure thing, ‘Soka.” He switched the plate to his left hand so he could tug gently at the tail of her braid with his right. Spotting the man in question, he headed over to find him speaking with Cody...and Ben. “Still warm from the oven, boys,” he greeted, holding out the plate with a wink, “Don’t forget to tip your waiter.”

Where they stood watching from the kitchen, Padmé and Ahsoka could see Ben roll his eyes before resigning himself to giving Anakin another peck on the cheek. They could also see his plain surprise when Rex pressed a kiss to his lips instead, earning some blushing laughter. “Wow,” Padmé murmured, “Rex is friendly.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt that he thinks Anakin is cute.” At Padmé’s look she hastily explained, “Don’t worry—he knows what I’m doing. He’s...” She searched briefly for the right word, tried, “Helping?”

For a moment Padmé only blinked at her, then she pulled her into a hug, laughing as she repeated, “ _Menace_ _!_ ”

~*~

Once the last of their guests had trickled out, the quartette quickly set about getting the apartment back in order: Padmé bundling the bags of trash for Ahsoka to walk down to the dumpster while Ben and Anakin moved the furniture back into its proper places. Padmé was the first to finish her task. “Alright, I love you all, but I have to be out the door early tomorrow to visit with my family.” One by one she walked to each of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I’m going to turn in.”

“Tell your parents I had said ‘hi,’” Anakin told her when it was his turn, scrubbing his hand up and down her back.

“I will.” Her smile was broken by a jaw-cracking yawn that she barely remembered to cover, and she waved to everyone as she disappeared down the short hall to her room. 

Surveying what was left as Ahsoka took a few trips to get the garbage bags to the door, Anakin noted, “Looks like we’ve just got to bring the coffee table back in now.”

“Leave the door unlocked for me?” Ahsoka asked, kicking one of the lighter bags through the door as she lifted another. “I’ll be back,” looking at the pile she’d made beyond the door, she huffed a laugh, “eventually.”

“We’ll be here,” Ben called while Anakin saluted, and Ahsoka pulled the door shut behind her.

It was short work for them to bring the coffee table back out from where it had been stowed in Ben’s room, and with that they had finished their task, too. “Well, now that the heavy lifting’s done,” Anakin proposed, nodding toward the still-playing music, “How about that dance?”

Ben blinked owlishly at him then snickered, shaking his head. “And give you another chance to abuse that little sprig of yours?” He pointed to the mistletoe still jauntily clipped into Anakin’s hair, grinning despite his protest, “No, I don’t think so.”

The other man held up his hands, placating, before unclipping the mistletoe and tossing it onto the coffee table. “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he held up three fingers together, “Scout’s honor.” Flourishing a bow, he held the same hand out to Ben.

Another shake of his head, this time accompanied with a roll of his eyes, but Ben dropped his hand into Anakin’s and allowed himself to be pulled into a loose embrace, swaying slowly in time with the soft music. A minute hadn’t passed before Anakin’s gaze slid to their joined hands, and the bruises that had begun to fade on Ben’s knuckles; the one on his cheek had been hidden under makeup for the party. “How’s this doing?” Before he could receive an answer he drew Ben’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there. 

Clucking his tongue, “This is your best behavior?”

Anakin smiled against his knuckles. “The least I can do is kiss it better.” But he drew Ben’s hand away again just the same. “Besides, it’s not like the mistletoe was my idea, you know. Ahsoka gave it to me before the party.” Ben scoffed, Anakin chuckled. “I think she was hoping it might start some fireworks between us, to be honest.”

“That seems about right,” Ben hummed, “She seems rather convinced we should be a couple.”

“I know, right?” Anakin laughed, careful to keep his volume down so as not to disturb Padmé. He turned their swaying into a lazy circle, thoughtfully silent for the moment. Then, “So, why aren’t we?”

Ben reared back in surprise but didn’t break their embrace. “What—because our new friend thinks we should be?”

“ _No_ ,” rolling his eyes, “because it’s made sense for years, we fit. I mean....” He caught his lower lip briefly in his teeth, tilted his head consideringly. “We’re both attracted to each other—“

“Oh, are we now?” Ben cut in, turning them in a circle counter to Anakin’s.

Anakin’s surprised expression seemed caught somewhere between amused and offended. “I saw how twitchy you started to get whenever Rex kissed me, don’t try to deny it.”

“No denial,” Ben admitted, dropping his teasing. “I...” He sighed, a rueful little smile turning his lips, “wasn’t aware you were interested.”

“You’re kidding me again,” Anakin accused. When Ben only shook his head, he blinked disbelievingly. “No...” a small smile curved his mouth, “You really never noticed?”

Raising his chin just a little, Ben defended, “I didn’t think I was your type.”

Anakin stopped their lazy dance, not quite abruptly, but didn’t let go. “I think you’re everyone’s type,” he murmured, “Everyone with sense, anyway.” Sensing the coming retort he beat Ben to the punch, cradling his cheek to press his thumb to his parted lips. “And even those of us without any.” He finished with a quick wink.

It was too much for Ben to keep a straight face to, and he turned his head to laugh into Anakin’s hand. “When did you learn to be so charming?”

“Paid attention to you,” he grinned shamelessly. “So,” canting his head to catch Ben’s gaze, “what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” almost imperceptibly, Ben leaned closer, “that maybe we should try out being a ‘we.’”

That shameless grin softened, Anakin’s expression growing warmer. “I think that sounds like a good idea.” He dipped his head to nuzzle at Ben’s cheek, “Obviously.”

But then Ben’s hands framed his face, holding him still to capture his lips. He made a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat as his own hands caught at Ben’s hips, pulling them flush before vining his arms up Ben’s back. Dimly he thought how right he’d been when he’d told the other man they fit—it felt like Ben’s body had been made to be held by his.

Neither of them heard the apartment door open again, only Ahsoka’s emphatic, “ _Finally!_ ”

Anakin broke the kiss with a huff of laughter, pressing his forehead to Ben’s to keep him close. “Don’t ruin it, ‘Soka. I’ll give you the details later.”

A giggle, maybe a little triumphant. “You’d better, Skyguy.”

Around them the room darkened as Ahsoka hit the light switch on her way through, leaving them to themselves in the glow of the faerie lights. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can find me on tumblr @singmanyfaces if you want to drop by. :D


End file.
